Time poems
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Shriven
© Henry Cuyler Bunner
A.D. 1425.
I have let the world go.
Thats the door that closed
Behind the holy father. I am shrived.
A Little Christmas Basket
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
De win' is hollahin' "Daih you" to de shuttahs an' de fiah,
De snow's a-sayin' "Got you" to de groun',
Hannibal
© Robert Frost
Was there even a cause too lost,
Ever a cause that was lost too long,
Or that showed with the lapse of time to vain
For the generous tears of youth and song?
Songs of the Voices of Birds: A Poet in his Youth, and the Cuckoo-Bird
© Jean Ingelow
“O, I hear thee in the blue;
Would that I might wing it too!
O to have what hope hath seen!
O to be what might have been!
A Line-Storm Song
© Robert Frost
The line-storm clouds fly tattered and swift.
The road is forlorn all day,
Where a myriad snowy quartz stones lift,
And the hoof-prints vanish away.
The Fear
© Robert Frost
A lantern light from deeper in the barn
Shone on a man and woman in the door
And threw their lurching shadows on a house
Near by, all dark in every glossy window.
Folk Singer's Blues
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Well, I'd like to sing a song about the chain gang
And swingin' twelve pound hammers all the day,
And how a I'd like to kill my captain
And how a black man works his life away, but...
Sitting by a Bush in Broad Sunlight
© Robert Frost
When I spread out my hand here today,
I catch no more than a ray
To feel of between thumb and fingers;
No lasting effect of it lingers.
Pan with Us
© Robert Frost
Pan came out of the woods one day,--
His skin and his hair and his eyes were gray,
The gray of the moss of walls were they,--
And stood in the sun and looked his fill
At wooded valley and wooded hill.
Fireflies in the Garden
© Robert Frost
Here come real stars to fill the upper skies,
And here on earth come emulating flies,
That though they never equal stars in size,
(And they were never really stars at heart)
Achieve at times a very star-like start.
Only, of course, they can't sustain the part.
Acceptance
© Robert Frost
When the spent sun throws up its rays on cloud
And goes down burning into the gulf below,
No voice in nature is heard to cry aloud
At what has happened. Birds, at least must know
To The Men Of Kent
© William Wordsworth
OCTOBER 1803
VANGUARD of Liberty, ye men of Kent,
Ye children of a Soil that doth advance
Her haughty brow against the coast of France,
Christmas Trees
© Robert Frost
(A Christmas Circular Letter)
THE CITY had withdrawn into itself
And left at last the country to the country;
When between whirls of snow not come to lie
The Ingrate
© John Crowe Ransom
BY night we looked across my field,
The tasseled corn was fine to see,
1866 -- Addressed To The Old Year
© Henry Timrod
Art thou not glad to close
Thy wearied eyes, O saddest child of Time,
Eyes which have looked on every mortal crime,
And swept the piteous round of mortal woes?
50-50
© Langston Hughes
Im all alone in this world, she said,
Aint got nobody to share my bed,
Aint got nobody to hold my hand
The truth of the matters
I aint got no man.
If I Were Santa Claus
© Edgar Albert Guest
IF only I were Santa Claus I 'd travel east and west
To every hovel where there lies a little child at rest;
In a Disused Graveyard
© Robert Frost
The living come with grassy tread
To read the gravestones on the hill;
The graveyard draws the living still,
But never anymore the dead.
The Bard's Incantation
© Sir Walter Scott
The Forest of Glenmore is drear,
It is all of black pine, and the dark oak-tree;
Home After Three Months Away
© Robert Lowell
Gone now the baby's nurse,
a lioness who ruled the roost
